


it takes an ocean not to break

by serenitysea



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: F/M, all the feels, promo speculation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-24
Updated: 2014-10-24
Packaged: 2018-02-22 11:23:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,465
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2505971
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/serenitysea/pseuds/serenitysea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>skye goes to the one person who can give her answers and will not lie to her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	it takes an ocean not to break

**Author's Note:**

> SO MANY FEELS.

_and i can't fall asleep_  
 _without a little help_  
 _it takes a while to settle down_  
 _my shivered bones_  
 _wait til the panic's out_

_and i won't follow you_  
 _into the rabbit hole_  
 _i said i would_  
 _but then i saw your shivered bones_  
 _they didn't want me to_  
  
*  
  
Skye leaves Coulson's office in a daze.  
  
She passes through the hallways of the Playground like a ghost; various passerby see her and she apparently responds (she has to answer, to keep them off her back) well enough to pass muster.  
  
It's when she sees Trip that she heads in the opposite direction and heads for the vault.  
  
Everyone knows she's going there anyway.  
  
*  
  
She stands outside the door to Vault D until she becomes aware of someone at her side.  
  
Lance stands there, looking worn and exhausted and far more _human_ than she's ever seen him. "You going in?"  
  
She shakes her head, and it feels like it takes everything she's got to keep it attached to her body and not just simply float away. She's so detached.  
  
Lance considers her with a quiet compassion she wouldn't have thought him capable of. Skye doesn't add anything in the rapidly growing silence.  
  
"You deserve answers," he says, briefly squeezing her shoulder.  
  
He walks away and leaves her standing in the empty corridor.  
  
She closes her eyes against the burn that aches hotly behind her lids.  
  
She reaches for the door and —  
  
— swiftly snatches her hand back.  
  
With long determined strides, she powers her way back to the bunks. She had lucked out with a smaller room, designed for single occupancy.  
  
(It stings, knowing that she hadn't lucked out at all; that this was just another way of keeping her _monitored_.)  
  
Skye lays down. She turns off the lights and closes her eyes.  
  
And she wills herself to think of nothing but sleep.  
  
*  
  
She doesn't dream.  
  
*  
  
When she wakes up, the knowledge comes crashing back down like an avalanche.  
  
She doesn't acknowledge the crawling feeling that indicates the presence of cameras inside the room (doesn't even ask how she knows that they're there) and attends to her morning routine.  
  
She gets dressed, washes her face, brushes her hair out until it falls straight and true.  
  
Before she leaves she looks in the mirror.  
  
She doesn't know the face that stares back at her.  
  
(And that might scare her the most.)  
  
*  
  
When she goes down to the Vault this time, she doesn't hesitate. She just walks in like she owns the place. Descends the stairs and gradually loses her sense of purpose.  
  
It isn't until she stands in front of Ward, with the suffocating weight of the barrier between them that she feels her breathing splinter.  
  
It's too much.  
  
She needs answers. She needs answers, and she needs to know that what she's hearing is the truth.  
  
( _It's true. And so will be every word I say to you for the rest of my life._ )  
  
( _I promised to never lie to you again._ )  
  
She's sick of it. Sick of being _monitored_ , sick of being _protected_ and most of all, she is so very sick of _being lied to_.  
  
And where else can she go for answers? There is no one here who will take her questions at face value anymore — everyone, for all she knows, could be designated to report about her behavior, or search for hidden meanings behind her inquiries. She could still be under observation.  
  
She's an _alien_. Her biological father is a _monster_.  
  
…It's exactly as Coulson had said to her in another lifetime: _it's worse than that_.  
  
Despite her sudden appearance (and suspicious lack of conversation) Ward hasn't moved from where he stands inside his cell. It's almost eerie, the way he can sense her inner turmoil and discern that this is a moment she needs to collect herself, and that he will remain silent.  
  
Skye knows the coding for everything in the Playground (Coulson doesn't know that). She knows which actions with trigger a defensive response and which will organize a full evacuation. She knows how to control the heating and cooling for the lesser climate controlled sections of the base.  
  
And she knows that deactivating the barrier is well above her clearance level.  
  
She does it anyway.  
  
*  
  
Ward watches her with too many emotions for her to name ( _bewilderment love hope fear determination worry_ ) and she can't, she can't —

 _She can't do this anymore_.

She raises her eyes to him and this time she can't disguise the tremor in her voice or the tears that are threatening to fall. "Please. Tell me what you know."  
  
He opens his mouth and his hands splay wide before clenching tightly, as if he wants to reach for her. To comfort her.  
  
Skye turns her head against the wave of emotion that continues to batter her and sinks into the chair because her legs will no longer hold her up.  
  
With pain etched into his voice, Ward remains on his side of the cell and softly responds, "What exactly do you want to know?"  
  
Skye rubs at her eyes tiredly. ( _Had she slept at all last night?_ )  
  
She leans forward in the chair, putting herself closer even to him. "Everything."  
  
"Skye." It's the same tone he'd use when she was being too stubborn for her own good and he insisted on doing things his way. It's how she learned to stop saying _bang_ when she finished assembling a gun. It's shades of her former SO, trying to get her to realize that just because she ran at life like a battering ram sometimes doesn't mean that brute force is always the answer.  
  
"I saw a picture of him," she brokenly responds. "He was holding me when I was a baby."  
  
At this revelation, Ward comes to the edge of his cell. He still will not cross the invisible line. "I'm sorry."  
  
"He killed people." Ward closes his eyes in regret, but doesn't stop her from barreling on, sensing that she needs to get this, all of it, out of her system. "He's got the Obelisk. He's a monster. And we have to take him down."  
  
There's something else, and it's the one thing she hadn't wanted to dwell on; hadn't dared to think about but refused to go away.  
  
" _And_?" Ward has always been far too good at reading her. (He reads people, and he's good at it; Specialists have to be. But where she's concerned, he has an unfair advantage.)  
  
"He's been looking for me my entire life."  
  
She doesn't have to say anything else. She doesn't have to explain to him how it makes her feel that she was, in fact, wanted by her family. She doesn't have to tell him how _conflicting_ it is to have these emotions of aching relief war against the need to do what is right. How betrayed she feels that she's been kept away from him for her own safety even though she knows he's a horrible person for murdering the way he has.  
  
(How betrayed she feels for being kept in the dark about the _one_ thing she had _every damn right_ to know.)  
  
There are cameras that record everything in Vault D. Biometrics tracking Ward's breathing and heart rate, along with other important data. Dim lighting that can't sabotage the piercing cameras as they faithfully archive every sigh and movement.  
  
But she looks into Ward's eyes and sees the compassion and  
  
And she breaks.  
  
She just.  
  
 _Shatters_.  
  
*  
  
After the crying subsides, she slowly realizes that there is a firm hand on her shoulder. It grounds her in the moment.  
  
Ward looms in front of her like some dark protector, shielding her from the cameras view while she regains her composure.  
  
There must be someone watching this, witnessing her breakdown and his escape from the cell. They're both going to catch hell for it.  
  
He wouldn't cross the barrier, even when it was down, for himself.  
  
He did it for _her_.  
  
When she has taken a huge deep breath and feels halfway more like herself, he pulls away. Steps aside respectfully, always aware of the distance between them and the actions that caused it to be so.  
  
He dips his head to her in silent question and she nods tiredly. She can handle it now. She can handle it, knowing it is coming from the only person who will not lie to her. The person who will tell it to her straight and true. No hidden agendas. No subterfuge. Just the patient, steady voice of her former SO as he explains another concept she has to wrap her head around.  
  
*  
  
So there in the depth and shadows of Vault D, Ward tells her everything he knows about her father.

*

\+ lyrics and title from _terrible love_ by birdy.

**Author's Note:**

> as always guys, come find me on tumblr (b-isforbombshell) and say hi!


End file.
